


You've Been Lonely

by patroklassy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dogs, Fem Levi, fem eruri, fem erwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:48:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8484712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patroklassy/pseuds/patroklassy
Summary: Once a week, Erwin trains her dog at the local club. And once a week, she watches the young woman who trains her dog on the other side of the fence.





	

Every Thursday evening she’s there with her dog, standing just beyond the boundary of the field used by the Dog Trainer’s Club, trying to mimic the actions of the trainers and follow instructions she can’t hear. All Erwin knows is that she’s short and dark-haired, and that she loves her dog; the latter is evident in her patience and care, and in the way the pair move together like best friends.

Erwin looks around at her fellow trainers, the people with enough money to pay for the expensive weekly classes. Half of them snap at their dogs, frustrated by the smallest mistake. A few more look bored, parents forced to train the dog their kid demanded and then moved on from in the space of a fortnight. The rest love their dogs, but not like Erwin loves her dog, and not like the stranger beyond the fence loves her dog.

\--

Her drive home always takes her past an alleyway a block over from the training field. Today, two familiar shapes emerge from it as Erwin draws close—the stranger and her dog. Without thinking, Erwin pulls over and winds down the passenger window. “Hey,” she says.

The stranger glares. Her eyes are colder than Erwin had anticipated.

“Um . . . would you like a lift home?”

The stranger’s gaze flicks to Erwin’s dog in the backseat, to Erwin’s truck, and back to Erwin herself. She shakes her head and walks away, her dog following at a perfect heel.

\--

Erwin goes from window to window in her apartment, pulling them shut against the late autumn breeze. She stops at the last one, looking down to the street below. A pub empties, couples stumbling over each other’s feet as they hold hands, groups of friends spilling out and arguing over where to go next.

Erwin turns from the window and goes to one of her kitchen cupboards, taking down a half-empty bottle of bourbon. Mixing some with coke, she steps back into the lounge and drops into her couch. She feels hollow. Her thoughts go to the stranger beyond the fence. “Bruinen?” she calls.

Her young dog trots in, his tail wagging, and jumps up onto the couch beside her. Erwin cuddles up against him. “What do you think, Bruinen?” she murmurs, half-burying her face in his warm fur. “Do you think I should try to talk to her?” Bruinen licks her face. Erwin laughs, stretching her chin up out of reach. “Thanks for your insight, buddy.”

\--

Winter comes in hard and fast, thickening Bruinen’s coat while the number of trainers who show up each week thins. The grass is turned crisp and frosty beneath their feet by the time they leave the training field every Thursday night, the last quarter of an hour illuminated by flood lights. The stranger beyond the fence is still there, bundled up in coat, scarf and gloves, leading her dog through the steps. Erwin appreciates her persistence.

\--

It's snowing. Erwin passes by the alleyway, as she does every Thursday on her way home. The stranger is there with her dog again, leaning against the wall this time, but she steps up to the curb when she sees Erwin’s truck. Erwin pulls over and winds down the window again. They stare at each other. The stranger says nothing.

“Need a ride?” Erwin asks. Her heart hammers, though she sees no reason why. But this moment feels important.

Still silent, the stranger glances at Erwin’s dog in the backseat again and then pulls the front passenger door open, lifting her own snow-dusted dog into the foot-space first before climbing in herself.

Erwin cranks up the heater and drives to the first intersection before asking, “So, an address?”

“You probably won’t know the street,” the stranger says. She has a bare, gruff voice that matches her bare, gruff appearance: a small, impassive face; heavily-lidded, narrow grey eyes with dark under-circles; a simple outfit composed of a grey coat with leggings and boots. “I’ll just direct you. Straight through here, then the next left.”

She speaks little, and when Erwin starts asking questions she receives short, direct answers.

“So . . . what’s your name?”

“Levi.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Levi. I’m Erwin.”

“Cool.”

“What breed is your dog?”

“Leonberger.”

Erwin’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. She’s not a fan of small-talk, but they have to start somewhere. This woman is giving her nothing. “She’s beautiful,” she says, glancing down at Levi’s dog. She’s still young, small enough to curl up quietly at Levi’s feet.

“True.”

“What’s her name?”

“Fuck,” Levi says. “It’s a play on the name ‘Buck’ from _Call of the Wild._ ”

Without missing a beat, Erwin looks down at Levi’s dog again and says, “It’s nice to meet you too, Fuck.”

Levi, to Erwin’s delight, lets out a small laugh—the first sign that she might actually be enjoying Erwin’s presence, even just a little bit. Erwin’s thoughts jump back to the feeling of watching people spill out of that pub, revelling in each other’s company. She plays Levi’s small laugh in her head again, and it seems like some of that hollowness gets filled in.

“I was kidding,” Levi says. “Her name’s Lady Grey.”

Erwin laughs too. “Oh, good. I would hate to think how awful yelling ‘Fuck! Fuuuck!’ would be every time you need to call her over. Lady Grey is much better.”

“Shit, Erwin, did you just demonstrate your bedroom noise? Bit early for that, don’t you think?” There’s humour in Levi’s voice now. “Is that how you talk to your dog? Freaky. I think I’d like out here, please.”

Erwin just laughs again.

“And what about your dog?” Levi asks. “Breed and name?”

“He’s a Belgian Tervuren. His name’s Bruinen.”

“Fucking nerd,” Levi says.

“Hey, you recognised it.”

Levi pauses a moment. “Fucking nerd,” she repeats.

\--

Levi’s prediction proves to be true; Erwin doesn’t recognise the street she lives on. “Which number?” she asks, slowing.

Levi’s sudden discomfort is almost tangible. A moment ago she was making a crude joke about dog shit that had Erwin choking on her own laugh. Now, all good humour has vanished and she mutters, “Just drop us here. It’s close enough.”

Pulling over to the curb, Erwin scans the houses. They’re all pretty rough: the streetlights illuminate peeling weatherboard, overgrown lawns, broken windows, and graffiti stretching from one crammed-together house to the next. One house stands out, its lawn mown and its windows clean, but the effect is like sticking a band-aid over a knife wound.

Levi is opening the door and sliding out before Erwin has even finished braking, and she scoops Lady Grey up in her arms with a curt, “Night, Erwin.” The door slams.

Erwin watches her trudge away through the snow. The hollowness returns.

\--

Three weeks later Bruinen and Lady Grey romp together at the pond’s edge, crunching through the ice in the shallows. Erwin and Levi sit at a nearby picnic table watching them, a steaming newspaper-bundle of hot chips spread open between them.

“Thanks for inviting us out here,” Levi says, taking a handful of chips. She idly bites into one as she watches Lady Grey. “I’ve never been to this park before. Lady loves it.”

“Not many people know about it, which is why I like it,” Erwin replies. She watches Levi, whose gaze is still turned away.

She knows now why Levi trains her dog beyond the fence, separated from the trainer’s club: she blew all her savings on vet bills for Lady Grey after she stole her—starved so thin that even her matted coat couldn’t hide her protruding ribs—from a house up the street. Between rent, bills, groceries and dog food, paying for training sessions is out of the question. “Her old owners must see her at your house,” Erwin had said, concerned. “Don’t they harass you about it? Try to get her back?”

Levi had shrugged, hugging Lady Grey close. “There’s nothing they can do,” she had said. “Not that they ever cared for her, anyway. But Lady’s too protective of me now to let them get close. She knows who they are and she hates them. And I’d kick their asses if they tried.” She had given Erwin a curious look. “Lady has always hated strangers coming near me. But she’s never minded you.”

“What’s wrong?” Levi asks now, turning to catch Erwin gazing at her.

Erwin jolts back to the present. “Nothing. You just . . . you look really nice. There’s some snow in your hair.”

Levi reaches a hand up to brush it away, but Erwin beats her to it. “Uh—sorry,” Erwin says, withdrawing her hand quickly. “That was a weird thing to do.”

Levi regards her for a moment. Then she reaches across the picnic table to brush the snow out of Erwin’s own hair. Her fingers linger for a moment along Erwin’s brow, pushing her short hair back a little. The touch sends chills through Erwin. “There,” Levi says, pulling her hand away and sitting back on her bench seat. “Now we’re even.”

\--

“We should have just gone to your place again,” Levi says, following Erwin through the front door. Erwin can only see the hallway and the kitchen to the right, but she can already tell that the interior of Levi’s house has been scrubbed to within an inch of its life. “Erwin? I changed my mind. Let’s go.”

Erwin steps towards the kitchen.

“Erwin. Please.”

Erwin stops. She turns to Levi, surprised by the tone of her voice. Almost begging. “What’s wrong?” Erwin asks.

“I changed my mind,” Levi repeats. She gives the kitchen an anxious look. “I want to go to your place. It’s not good enough here.”

“Not good enough for what?”

Levi’s fists clench and unclench. “For. . . for you.”

Erwin’s brows draw together. Her mouth opens and then shuts. She feels like Levi is going to slam a door and trudge off into the night again.

Levi’s eyes narrow into a glare, defensive. “Trying to hold in a shit over there or something? Come on. We’re leaving.” She turns back towards the front door.

Erwin turns away and walks into the kitchen.

It’s the first time she has been inside Levi’s house—the only house on the street with its lawns mown and its windows cleaned. Levi doesn’t train her dog beyond the fence on Thursday evenings anymore. Instead, Erwin picks her and Lady Grey up on Friday mornings and takes them either to the park or back to her apartment, where she personally teaches them what she learned the night before.

But today, Levi finally invited her around.

“Erwin, what the fuck are you—”

“I love your house, Levi.” The decoration is simple. Little tins of tea line one of the counters with a ceramic teapot sitting next to them. The table only has one chair, but it’s a pretty one. The linoleum beneath Erwin’s feet shines. She can see the lounge beyond, with its cosy but threadbare couch and tiny television set. It feels homey to Erwin. But it also exudes such loneliness that she’s forced to suck in a deep, calming breath as she looks around. It makes her sad to think of Levi living here by herself.

Lady Grey barks suddenly from elsewhere in the house, as if to remind Erwin that Levi’s home isn’t completely void of company. And why does it bother her? She herself lives alone, too. 

Levi appears at her side. “It’s a shithole.”

Erwin laughs, the sense of loneliness dissipating. “Well, it’s the best shithole I’ve ever seen.” She reaches out to take Levi’s hand, causing Levi to look up at her. Erwin smiles back. “Care to show me around?”

\--

The fire crackles, emitting a warm glow across the blanket they’re huddled beneath. Erwin has pushed her couch up close to it, angled sideways towards the television. Lady Grey and Bruinen are curled up against each other on the floor. Erwin and Levi both wear leggings and fluffy socks, and long, comfy shirts perfect for lazing around and cuddling.

Two months have passed since they first met. Levi talks more now. She talks a lot. She’s blunt and awkward and every other sentence out of her mouth is a filthy joke that makes Erwin’s belly ache from laughter. She lists off teas for every ailment she suspects Erwin might be suffering, from insomnia to constipation to the flu. She’s usually right.

Levi holds an enormous white-chocolate rum milkshake in a glass, which they both sip from with two curly straws, their heads huddled close together. “This movie is bitchin’,” Levi says.

Erwin laughs, spilling milkshake. “Really?” she says. “It’s ‘bitchin’’?”

“Blame the rum.”

“I think you’re pretty bitchin’, Levi.”

Levi shakes her head, smiling around her straw. She finishes her sip and says, “Sorry, no. You can’t pull off ‘bitchin’.’ Try again.”

Erwin looks at her. Levi looks back. The moment stretches. The film is forgotten. “How about beautiful?” Erwin says softly.

“Ugh. Too cliché.”

“Damn. Funny?”

“An understatement.”

Erwin smiles, biting her lip. “How about life-changing?”

“That’s more like it. Fucking sap. How about you just kiss me already?”

Their lips brush, the scent of rum hanging between them, and then they both move to close the gap at the same time but end up colliding a little, making Erwin giggle. The sound tips both of their nerves over the edge and they each draw back, unsure. So Erwin gathers her courage and leans forward again to kiss Levi in a row from her ear across her cheek, finishing back on her lips, and deepens the kiss before Levi has a chance to react.

When they part, Erwin lets a hand remain resting on Levi’s cheek. “Life-changing,” she whispers. She means it. She can hardly recall that hollow feeling at all anymore.

“Fucking sap,” Levi whispers back, and kisses Erwin again.


End file.
